Atonement
by Adorelo
Summary: “You never talk about it,” she finally murmured, echoing her words from earlier. “I wanna talk about it.” - Post Ep - 6.20; Down to The Wire.


I'm not confident writing post eps (love reading them, though) but this wouldn't leave me alone. It's a post ep for **6.20; Down To The Wire**.

Thanks to Jacks and Amanda for all their help with this.

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_-- Atonement --_

_-- By adorelo --_

Two simple knocks at the door interrupted the late night show, a shifting shadow behind the door marring the line of light from the hallway. Muting the TV, he rose to answer the door, surprised to find Calleigh fidgeting nervously in his hall. She smiled a little, flitting her eyes between his.

"Hey," he mumbled around a yawn, the main indication of his long day. His eyes appeared sunken, his lids heavy; a light stubble graced his jaw. She smiled again, the slight waver giving away her nervousness. "What are you doing here?" he queried, voice light so he didn't sound accusatory.

She was silent for a moment, hands now playing with the hem of her shirt. "You never talk about it," she finally murmured, echoing her words from earlier. Her comment had shocked him then and that feeling didn't fail to surface now. Eric sighed, meeting her eyes. He nodded a little when he realized she wanted him to respond. "I wanna talk about it," she continued, voice small. He could see she was uncomfortable with her own request but could fathom no way to make it easier for her.

"Okay," he replied, his voice matching her soft tone. He didn't ask her to come in, didn't need to; she simply smiled again, that nervous smile he wasn't used to seeing, and stepped past him, quickly seating herself on one side of his couch. Eric joined her, sitting in the middle but not too close. Still, she subtlety shifted away.

Calleigh had organized. She'd worked out exactly what she wanted to say and had convinced herself she'd be able to handle listening to his words. One look into his tired eyes, however and all semblance of the plan she'd spent the past few hours concocting vanished, just like that. It was strange how he could blow the wind right out of her sails with a simple smile. Once inside, though, she seemed more relaxed, the initial nerves of actually getting there seemed to have vanished, however some fear still radiated from her. Eric wanted to comfort her, though he didn't know why she was so conflicted. The day had been emotional for both of them, but he figured she should still be angry, disappointed, anything but the unconditional affection she seemed to exhibit only for him. It was strange how so much had happened over the years yet so little had changed between them.

He remained silent, scared that any words he uttered would break through the magical daze that had brought her to him. Eric didn't have to wait long; her voice penetrated the silence, curiously higher than normal. "Were you scared?" she asked, continuing before he had a chance to formulate a response. "I was." Her pace was fast, abnormally so.

"Yeah, I was too," he replied, again not sure where she was going with it. He took a moment to study her. Something wasn't right. Though she remained upright, her body was curiously tense; he sensed the barely discernible tremor in her muscles. Green eyes studied the carpet, the table everywhere but him and the small crease at the top of her nose told him she was over thinking something. "Calleigh, are you okay?"

She snapped her eyes to his, all trace of her prior nervousness gone. "Of course," she stated, "why wouldn't I be?"

"After today, Cal. With Stetler." He spoke carefully, knowing bringing up the subject was questionable in itself but, given her current state, he wasn't sure what her reaction would be.

He should have guessed.

"I'm fine, Eric. Really. Let it go," she snipped, tensing under his gaze. She gave him no time to backpedal, no time to apologize. "That isn't why I came."

He glanced to her again, squinting slightly. "Why did you come?"

"To talk to you," she commented. "You don't talk about what happened, and I know that's partly my fault. I'm here to remedy that." She spoke so strongly, it sent a bolt of annoyance through him.

"Don't feel obligated, Calleigh," Eric responded coldly, rising to move to the kitchen. His fatigue was affecting him and he was curiously irritable. "I'm handling things; I don't need you here to mother me." He regretted the words as soon as there were out of his mouth.

"That's what you think I'm doing?" She followed him through. "I thought you knew me better than that, Eric. I thought we were friends!" He turned away, switching the kettle on in an attempt to distract from the growing hole he had dug. "Am I sadly mistaken? I came because I wanted to talk things through with you, because I was concerned about you."

"And it's nice of you to decide it's time for us to talk about it. Where were you when I was ready?" Eric snapped, raising his hand to his eyes immediately. "Shit, Cal, I'm sorry; I didn't mean that, I'm just tired."

He had prepared himself for an on-set of anger, for shouting, even for cold detachment: that typical Calleigh response. But when he braved a glance her way, he was shocked to see the glint of tears in her eyes. As he opened his mouth to apologize again, he was cut off by her words. "You're right. I wasn't there when you needed me." She sighed dejectedly. "I let you down."

"No, Cal - "

"I was too caught up in my own worries and fears to ask you about it when I really should have. It was selfish." She placed a soft hand on his arm, distracting him for a moment. "I'm sorry. I don't know why it happened."

Eric stepped closer, not quite touching her; he didn't want to push too far. "It's alright, Cal," he offered. She nodded, simply accepting his unnecessary comment. Eric handed her a coffee after adding sugar, smiling at the normality of the action.

"You know, I wasn't there for you to talk to me, but you never came." Eric cocked his head, squinting slightly as he tried to work out her meaning. "To me," she clarified. "You never tried to find me. You never came to talk."

Eric nodded, casting his mind back to those darker times. Memories of those days had been buried now, and the pain that surfaced along with those memories was both heart wrenching and cathartic. He'd hidden from his daemons for too long but, truthfully, he had no real answer to her unasked question. "I don't know why I didn't," he told her. "I think it was easier not to." His attempt to return them to safer ground was weak and Calleigh frowned, eyes following the trail of steam that snaked from her coffee. The comforting fragrance of Eric's condo and the ever-strong scent of Café Cubano made her heart twinge with…something.

"I wish you'd come to me," she admitted. Knowing the pain he had gone through alone, she mentally berated herself for being so damn isolated. If she could have made herself able to handle the emotions he would so surly expose to her, she could have done so much more than she had. "I don't…" That contemplation faded with her attempt at a smile.

"Calleigh, I have a bullet in my head," he said, strongly, trying to excuse both himself and Calleigh. Part of him _did_ want to blame her, hold her responsible for his own inabilities. If she had been there, if she'd gone to him and said, "talk to me," he might have been willing. Maybe he wouldn't have kept it all bottled up. Eric tried to blame her. They had been growing further apart since Speedle's death and he blamed her for that. He'd tried, more times than he cared to think about, to reach out to her, to try to make her realize he would always be there when she needed him. However, when he needed her, she didn't seem to be there.

He knew it was selfish. Calleigh had lost so much; it only made sense that she might have found it hard to talk about almost losing another part of her being. But he wanted her to hurt, feel guilty. If he could see the pain she hid so carefully behind her façade, he could at least tell himself she cared about him as much as he did about her. But he got nothing, not at first. Cold detachment and forced smiles met him everyday he was out of the hospital. Back there, she could leave her emotions in the cold, white room with him; go back to work and smile, pretend everything was fine. However, when Eric was back at work with her everyday, she seemed to find it more difficult to keep up that façade.

"Stetler, he, um," she started, breaking into the awkward silence that had formed around them. Her abrupt change in subject surprised him, though he should have expected it. "He wasn't mad. He was… surprisingly nice." She gave a sarcastic laugh. "I expected him to be angry, but he seemed sorry that he had to question me. He really makes me wonder sometimes. Maybe the guy's human after all." Calleigh sipped her coffee, keeping her eyes on him. He didn't look convinced. "Really, Eric, it was just protocol. He had to do it."

"You shouldn't have lied," he started, fatigue catching up on him with a fierce force. "Not about me." He didn't know if it was the slight disappointment behind his voice or the sudden change of tone but her eyes flashed dangerously again.

"No, I wouldn't want to 'mother you' now, would I?" she spat sarcastically, turning on her heel to leave the kitchen.

He followed her immediately, anger burning his throat as everything they had danced around for so long now finally burst through the surface. "No, because that would involve you showing some sort of emotion to me and we can't have that now, can we?" he responded, just as icily.

"You know what, screw you, Delko." She was momentarily thankful she hadn't brought her weapon because she was pretty damn sure there would be at least one round discharged by now. She slammed her cup down on his coffee table. "I'm leaving."

"I'm not letting this drop, Calleigh," he shouted, annoyance prevalent in every word.

"You don't have a choice." She reached for the jacket she'd shed upon entering. Calleigh had made it to the door of the hall when his voice commanded her attention.

His hands gestured around him, irritation burning behind his brown orbs. "You can't ignore all your problems, Calleigh, someday you're gonna have to face things."

She turned then, a hand clutching her jacket so tightly, her knuckles were white. "Yeah, and I don't need you there holding my hand, Eric." Calleigh narrowed her eyes, as though daring him to retort. Though her resolve to remain distanced had been shattered, there was something surprisingly controlled about her rage.

Not for Eric.

"Then why the hell did you come here?" he ground out, his jaw clenched. Eric didn't want to know what his blood pressure was at that moment, but he could feel his blood vessels pulsing with anger.

Her lips moved silently for a moment as she formulated a response. Eventually, she sighed in anger, her eyes dropping shut. "You know what? Just drop it." She flicked her eyes to his. "I'm going home."

"We're not playing this game again, Calleigh. You came here, so stop running the hell away from me." He reached over, grasping the top of her arm gently, wanting more than anything to shake some sense into the enigmatic woman before him. "Just tell me what's going on with you!"

"I don't have to explain myself to you," she replied, trying to yank her arm back.

"You do if you're gonna come here and bring up old feelings. It hurts to think about it, Calleigh, and it's not fair of you." he grabbed her other arm, pulling her closer. "Talk to me," he demanded.

"Get off me," she demanded, tone equally as strong. "Let me go!"

"What the hell are you running from, Calleigh?"

"I wasn't there for you when you needed me; I let you down." The high-pitched tone had returned, sending bolts of fear to his heart. He shook his head gently, trying to alleviate some of the guilt she was carrying. Calleigh had done more than enough for him; her unconditional support had been all that had got him through it.

"Eric, please," she begged, sounding a little hysterical. He kept his grip on her arms, holding her tightly, trying not to hurt her. She was almost feral. "Let me go!" she shouted again, fire flashing behind her eyes.

"No, I won't let you go." He cringed when her palms connected with his chest; she pushed hard, nails scratching his skin through the cloth. Pulling her closer, he fought his own wave of emotions when she fiercely pushed him away. She grasped his shoulders roughly, nails digging into the now straining muscles Eric held strong, only releasing his grasp when he felt her shake softly, tears of irritation springing to her eyes. His hands rubbed soft circles on her back as he watched the emotions behind her eyes shift. Anger and fear replaced by pain. Soft words were whispered into her hair as she slowly fisted his shirt into her hands.

He'd broken that proverbial wall around her, and quiet words trailed from her mouth. "I was so scared," she whispered, her voice tight as she restrained tears. "You scared me so much," she told him, straining every word as the magnitude of what could have been finally hit her. She'd hidden from it for so long, convinced herself that the what-ifs really didn't matter because he was still alive. But the pain from the constant repression had hit her today. Hard. Everything she had ever kept to herself threatened to spill from her lips as his hand weaved into her hair.

"I know, I know." His voice was mumbled against her head and she pulled back, intent on letting him do the thing she should have been there to help him do when it happened. She led them back to the couch, retaking the seat she had vacated only moments earlier. This time when he sat close, she made no attempt to move. This was about him, not her insecurities. Eric got the hint when she stared, knowing it was his turn to lean on her - though he'd been doing that a lot this year alone. "I don't remember much about the actual shooting," he began, speaking quietly. "I don't remember the pain, but I remember H's face."

Calleigh listened intently, but made no move to interrupt him. Part of him was thankful he had someone other than a department shrink to listen to him. Part of him wished he could ignore it forever. "I know you came a lot; when I was unconscious, I mean." He took a moment to smile, studying her intently. Eric had never felt so lucky to have her in his life - Calleigh was his angel in every sense of the word. Knowing, even for a few hours, what it was like not to have her in his life nearly killed him. He'd felt incomplete…lost without her.

"I really thought I was going to die, Cal. I just…" his voice faded as the emotions of the shooting came flooding back. She rested a hand on top of his, giving him the support that he so desperately needed. "It was hard." And that was what made Eric so special. Just his ability to wear his heart on his sleeve with no fear of judgment, no fear of appearing weak - if anything, it made him stronger. Calleigh admired Eric for it, knowing it was something she'd never be able to do. "I wish I could remember more. My therapist tells me some of the memory loss is permanent, but I might get some back."

"How's it going with her? Is she helping?" Calleigh asked with her head cocked to the side.

"Yeah, she's helped me get some things in order. Make some realizations." And in that moment, he felt relief flood through him that it had been Wolfe in that interview room with him and not her. Though it was perfectly normal for him to discus the help she had given him throughout the year concerning work, the context in which she was mentioned in _that _particular session was not something he thought she could handle yet. Eric was thankful it had been shut off before too much was revealed. So much for private sessions.

"I'm glad. I know how much you didn't want to go."

"Yeah, she helped me sort stuff out during the therapy, too." He sighed, tilting his head to look at her face. "I found that hard, you know, having to retrain my muscles." Calleigh nodded softly, her frown re-forming. "I thought it'd be easy, the therapy. I mean, I knew getting there would be hard, but I figured I'd pick everything up again pretty quickly." Talking about this may have been cathartic for him, but it was killing her to hear the pain behind his voice. "Failing so often, it was… It was crushing." Eric gave a sardonic laugh. "But then you came, smiling and telling me I'd get though and I really believed you, Calleigh. I told myself you were right, that I could do it."

"You could. You did," she interrupted, placing a hand on his thigh.

His eyes fall to her hand. "Look, Cal, I know I've said this before, but thank you." She shook her head, dismissing him. "You've done more than enough for me, and I'm really grateful." Calleigh smiled then, and Eric didn't try to hide the flash of disappointment in his eyes when she didn't lean in like she did last time.

"I'm grateful that you've been here for me too," she admitted, taking her hand off his to wrap around her warm cup.

"I'll be okay. We'll be okay," Eric told her, sensing her uncertainly over the situation. He felt truly blessed to have her with him. Even when they argued, she was the first to go out of her way to make sure he was okay. Seeing her fall in front of him and knowing there was little he could do to help catch her had bitten a large chunk out of his heart, leaving him exhausted.

He'd not seen Calleigh so raw and open in a long time and it still scared him. She was always the quintessential professional woman, playing with the boys' toys in the big boys' world. Sometimes he forgot she was human, and it was the stark reminders over the past few days that had really driven it home. Seeing her point that gun at her kidnappers head had been the only thing that affirmed she was still alive. Calleigh with a gun was normal; the tears he noticed as she lowered it were not.

She met his eyes, smiling again as he blinked slowly. Her brows met in the middle as she watched him unconsciously rub the long healed wound on his leg. She knew it still gave him trouble sometimes but to her, it was more than a scar. It was a constant reminder of how much they had both lost and almost lost.

But also of how much they had gained.

Since his shooting, that line between them had been blurred. They'd stopped dancing over it and had simply forgotten its existence, throwing out the old rules and trying to work out what the new ones should be. Neither knew. Both cared. Eric didn't want to push too far and Calleigh, well, Calleigh didn't want to lose the old ones in the first place. But they continued their dance, both testing the boundaries in an attempt to work out where they stood.

"If you do ever wanna talk more," she began, "I'll be here to listen." Calleigh took a breath, letting it out shakily. "I promise."

Eric gave a nod, smiling slightly at their mutual incapacities. "I will; you're the only one I really wanna talk to, anyway." His smile grew as she blushed slightly. "You're the only one who I want to share it with."

She dropped her eyes, unsure how to respond to his comment. As Eric fought another yawn, she cast her eyes to his clock. "It's late," she whispered gently, "I should go." Calleigh rose again, slower this time.

Eric followed, stepping towards her, meeting his eyes with hers. "No, stay a while," he begged.

"Eric," she started, "we have to get up early and it's already past twelve." Calleigh reached out, taking his hand in hers. She'd become more comfortable with this action, and felt no fear doing it now. She knew what feelings would be evoked; she'd done it that many times. But she could handle them. It was the unexpected ones she struggled with. "I'll see you in the morning?"

He held on for a beat, simply enjoying the contact, before he tugged her forward again, this time pressing a hesitant kiss to the top of her head. His skin still tingled from the contact and the slight hitch in her breath as his lips met her skin told him, she'd felt the spark too.

Tomorrow, she wouldn't bring it up, and he'd be too polite to ask about it; but both knew something had changed, that the switch had been flicked. After all the wasted time, the omissions, the hiding, it was time for some serious atonement to be done and for once, they both seemed willing to try. "Goodnight," he murmured after her, smiling long after he'd closed the door.

_--fin--_

_--May 23rd, 2008--_


End file.
